Grief
by Wingsss
Summary: On her way back from Jacob’s in chapter 8 of Eclipse, Bella’s motorcycle is hit by a truck. She never makes it back to the Cullen’s house. The following one shots highlight the reactions of Bella’s closest friends and family.
1. Denial

Grief by Rachel HB

Grief by Rachel HB

Summary: On her way back from Jacob's in chapter 8 of Eclipse, Bella's motorcycle is hit by a truck. She never makes it back to the Cullen's house. The following one shots highlight the reactions of Bella's closest friends and family.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, they are all property of the amazing Stephenie Meyer. I just move them around. No copyright infringement intended.

Author's note: This fan fiction is written as a series of one shots from the perspectives of characters in the 5 different stages of grief as described by psychologist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross in her book "_On Death and Dying_." They are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. The grieving cycle through denial, anger, bargaining, and depression for months or years, sometimes going through multiple cycles before they finally reach the acceptance stage. So there's a little education for you.

"…_His words cracked like the snaps of a whip. 'Anything. Anything else. You'd be better off dead. I'd rather you were.'_

_I recoiled like he'd slapped me. It hurt worse than if he had. _

_And then, as the pain shot through me, my own temper burst into flame._

_'Maybe you'll get lucky,' I said bleakly, lurching to my feet. 'Maybe I'll get hit by a truck on my way back.'_

_I grabbed my motorcycle and pushed it out into the rain. He didn't move as I passed him. As soon as I was on the small, muddy path, I climbed on and kicked the bike to life…"_

Eclipse, first edition, page 183

Denial- Charlie Swan

This was the very worst part of my job.

Honestly, being police chief in Forks is not a particularly difficult profession. Sure, I take a great deal of pride in what I do, but my job involves a fair bit of paper work… the occasional traffic ticket, or rowdy teenagers defacing the park… but nothing unbearable. Fridays, the officers and I play cards for a large chuck of the day.

The one exception to this is traffic accidents. The roads in Forks are of course, always slick from rain. Lots of trucks pass through here... and sometimes the accidents can get pretty bad. But mostly, the cars are worse off than their passengers. The once exception to this is motorcycle accidents. Which is why I was so livid when Jacob told me about Bella's bike. It sent me into a blind rage.

So when I got a call today about a motorcycle and truck accident, I was prepared for the worst. It sounded bad, just over the phone. I led the ambulances from the hospital to the site of the crash, about half way on the road between La Push and Forks. I pulled over and parked the car swiftly, falling into the flurry of activity around me.

I got out my witness report papers. The woman who called was standing with the driver of mid sized truck on the side of the road. I had to get their accounts while they were still fresh in their minds.

But when I got out of the car, I stopped short. In front of me was a motorcycle I was vaguely familiar with. It was black, fairly small, and clearly homemade. This was Bella's motorcycle.

My breath caught. I dropped what I was holding, and blindly ran forward. Everything that happened after that was a blur. The paramedics were loading Bella—my beautiful Bella—on to a stretcher. Her eyes were closed, her clothes were stained with blood. There was a cut on her head, the blood ran red against her pale skin. They checked pulse, respiration, and loaded her into the ambulance. It raced off in lightning speed.

That was all I could take of the scene. I sank to my knees on the spot, shards of glass biting my skin. Another police cruiser had arrived. Someone was doing my job, questioning the truck driver and witness to the accident. Someone else from the station was pulling me to my feet. I don't even know what they said, or who they were, even though it was one of my junior officers. But whoever he was drove me to the hospital.

After what seemed like hours in the waiting room, but could have been just minutes, a doctor approached me. I stood up, eyes frantically searching his face.

"I am so, so sorry, Charlie," he said.

I shook my head vigorously. "No. No, no, no!" I was yelling. There was no one else in the waiting room to hear my futile protests.

Again, the doctor spoke. He put a hand on my shoulder, in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture. It didn't feel that way.

"I am terribly sorry Charlie. We did everything we could for her, but she didn't survive the crash. Would—"

I protested again. This wasn't real. Any moment I would wake up to Bella making breakfast. Getting ready for school just like any other morning. She was so beautiful—she was in love. She had such a bright future. She wasn't dying today.

"Charlie, would you like to see her?"

I was vaguely aware that I nodded, even though I wasn't sure if that was what I wanted right now. I was lead through the white halls to the trauma room, where she lay still on the table. She was paler than ever, and sick looking. She was still. So still. I stumbled blindly over to the table, and put my head on her chest. There was no heartbeat, there were no more breaths. In my head, all I heard was _no, no, no!_ But I was running out of arguments against this, the cold truth in front of me. I stepped back, trying to compose myself.

I picked up her hand—it felt ice cold. She was already cold. There was nothing more to be done, nowhere to go from here. I turned on my heel and left, unable to look at my daughter—vibrant, feeling, beautiful Bella—so still and cold on the table.


	2. Anger

Summary: In my alternate universe, Bella never becomes a vampire

Summary: On her way back from Jacob's in chapter 8 of Eclipse, Bella's motorcycle is hit by a truck. She never makes it back to the Cullen's house. The following one shots highlight the reactions of Bella's closest friends and family.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, they are all property of the amazing Stephenie Meyer. I just move them around. No copyright infringement intended.

Anger- Jacob Black

When I was younger, I wasn't an angry person. Wrath is, of course, one of the seven deadly sins. Not that I usually subscribe to faith in that sense, but anyway, you get my point. Anger is something I usually try to avoid. Being angry at someone—holding grudges—doesn't work. I think the whole yelling, throwing fits, stomping your foot bit doesn't get you anywhere.

That being said, its hard for a werewolf to do any of that. When something happens, the tiniest little thing, even, we explode. When something happens to make my blood boil, I can feel the shakes and tremors in my body. My skin ripples, shifting into fur. That moment when we shift from man to beast feels like fire. In our wolf form, we are at out most basic. Most primitive. We are slaves to our impulses—the most fundamental of which is to kill vampires. And you better believe that translates with us while in human form.

So I guess my point is that anger comes naturally to me. And it was never more prevalent than the day I heard that Bella died. Charlie was frantic and in no state to do much of anything that first day. I couldn't do much either. It was more than I could manage to drive Billy over to Bella's house and help him to the door. I couldn't bear going inside. There were too many memories—doing homework together at the table, washing dishes, the day I almost kissed her—painful memories. Those were pushed back, drowned out by the weight of our last conversation. I had been so angry with her decision to become a vampire. I'd said I wanted her dead. And look that happened now… It was anguish. I felt entirely responsible—so angry at myself. It was entirely my fault she left in such a state, and in such a hurry. These thoughts and memories cut into my skin, carving painful, jagged edges all though me. I knew these were wounds that would never heal.

Stepping back into the rain, I let the misty drops dampen my hair and forehead. I lifted my head, watching the clouds. Running my hand through my hair—it had grown out again—I traced the outline of butterflies, cars, and trees in the dark moving clouds.

I took in the outside of the house, watching the rustle of the leaves on the tree outside her bedroom window. The window was wide open, and the curtains were fluttering in the breeze, the pattern darkened with water. I could see the inside of her room, everything was exactly where she'd left it. Clothes lay in a rumpled pile on the floor, and her computer was still on. That was about all I could deal with. Something about it sent me off and had me running for the trees, trembling.

The ripples tore through my body, shaking my tall frame. Effortlessly, I gave way to my more primal self, running through it. I was pleased to find my head empty, devoid of the thoughts of my pack mates. Good, I was alone to rail at God. Or whatever higher power I should appeal to now.

The most terrible thing about being a werewolf is that you never really escape your human self, or vice versa. There's no running from your feelings. And I was feeling angry today. Livid.

I would never be able to move past this. Bella, who lit up my life. My best friend, my first love. Our last conversation—very possibly her last words—had been so angry. It was so wrong for a person so loving and beautiful to die like that. And it was entirely my fault. I didn't know what I could do to even the score. I hated myself. I was the one who deserved to die, not her. I was so stupid!

If it was possible to phase again, in to something bigger and nastier even than my massive werewolf self, I would have. My body shook, my claws dug into the ground where I now stood. I threw my head back and howled—a howl more like a piercing yell than a sorrowful bay at the moon. I did not know where to go from here, but I would have to start by forgiving myself—and that seemed impossible today.


	3. Bargaining

Summary: In my alternate universe, Bella never becomes a vampire

Summary: On her way back from Jacob's in chapter 8 of Eclipse, Bella's motorcycle is hit by a truck. She never makes it back to the Cullen's house. The following one shots highlight the reactions of Bella's closest friends and family.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, they are all property of the amazing Stephenie Meyer. I just move them around. No copyright infringement intended.

Bargaining- Alice Cullen

Even though I weigh in a 95 pounds most days, and measure just four feet ten inches, I am not used to feeling weak, small, or insignificant. I can hold my own against my brother Emmett, who is easily three of me. I am hard as stone, and can crush just about anything with my bare hands. I've killed—both people and other vampires—it's not something I'm proud of, but it's the truth.

So I was totally unprepared for the hopelessness that washed through me that afternoon. Carlisle told me; he got a call from the doctor that pronounced her dead at the hospital. Edward hadn't heard yet because he was still out hunting. I desperately hoped he wouldn't come home and hear my thoughts. There was no way I could hide this. I was drowning. I, Alice Cullen, was shut up in my room, and let grief take me.

I was the worst babysitter ever. I would have to push my new Porsche, my gift for taking care of Bella, off a cliff after this. I couldn't even look at it. I'd give up my new car—or all the fast, beautiful cars in the world—for just a second more time.

A catastrophe of this magnitude was not something that usually caught me off guard. I couldn't see her because she had been with _him,_ that dog, before the accident. What ate me up inside was that it was so very preventable. If I had been able to see the werewolves, I could have saved her life. The agony of that was gnawing at my cold, empty insides.

She was my best friend. In all my life—human or not—I'd never found someone quite like her. Jasper… was my soul mate. Bella was my best friend. In so many real ways, she was my sister. More than Rosalie had ever been. We were far too different… with Rose it was superficial. We were shopping buddies. Bella and I… we were cut from the same cloth, really. And I never got a chance to convey any of this to her.

What I wouldn't trade for five minutes in her presence, to tell her I love her. To tell her she was the little sister I never had, but had always wanted.

What if it had been rainy all weekend? What if we hadn't chosen this particular weekend to go hunting? What if I had been able to drive her to La Push? If the stars had aligned in any other way, would this have happened? I thought not. My mind mulled over and over the past few days. What could I have done to keep this from happening? Of course, there was nothing I could do. But still, everything was my fault. _If I could just; If I hadn't…_ it was all too much.

I started thinking a lot about God. Edward and Carlisle used to have lively debates about the subject of religion, representing two stark opposite opinions on our fate after this life. I'd never thought about it much; I didn't care to get into their arguments. But as I sat on the plush carpet of my bedroom, looking up at the white ceiling, I thought a lot about what might lie beyond.

And if there was something up there, why did this happen? What was the reason? The first thing that occurred to me was that she was taken so she wouldn't become one of us. Perhaps she died before Edward got a chance to change her, because she wasn't _supposed_ to be one of us. None of us were supposed to be what we were, and that was what we were supposed to learn from this.

What if we promised not to change her? What if Edward never wanted to change her? Could Bella still be here? Would she still be laughing, talking, warm, loving Bella? Maybe.

What if we didn't live here? If the Cullen's never exited to Bella Swan. Then there would be no reason for her to be sneaking around. Her life without us might have extended far past her eighteen years.

What if we didn't exist? If we never existed, if nature was as it was supposed to be. No vampires. Then, of course she would still be alive. I would gladly trade the remainder of my years for Bella's life. She deserved more than the short time she got. Charlie would not be in the excruciating pain he would be in for the rest of his days. What a curse it was to live forever, knowing the one mortal person you cared for most was robbed of precious time.

I would trade anything I owned for her life. Anything in my possession. I implored the higher powers to seek reason; it was not her time. It felt so unfair that her life should be so short while mine was unnecessarily long.

So it was while I was sitting in a pew in church, Bella's coffin before me, listening to the priest give a touching—but generic—speech, that I thought I would trade anything I own, or could borrow, or could steal, to be anywhere but here.

Author's Note: Please review! I work really hard on these and it's nice to know _someone_ is reading it... if you like or dislike it... or think I should do something differently, please let me know! :)


	4. Depression

Summary: In my alternate universe, Bella never becomes a vampire

Summary: On her way back from Jacob's in chapter 8 of Eclipse, Bella's motorcycle is hit by a truck. She never makes it back to the Cullen's house. The following one shots highlight the reactions of Bella's closest friends and family.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, they are all property of the amazing Stephenie Meyer. I just move them around. No copyright infringement intended.

Depression- Edward Cullen

Catatonic. That was how the all described my condition for the months after the accident. They tried not to think about it too much in my presence, and I tried desperately to not hear them. But I knew. Jasper couldn't even be in my presence, because I spread my uncontrollable depression onto him. He tried to calm me with his gift—but not even that could lift my mood. It just made me lethargic. Not happy.

After shutting myself up in my room with my thoughts, I eventually stopped hearing voices. I just heard… nothing. I tried not to think, because it killed me. I tried not the even breathe, because her smell clung to my clothes, to the linens in my room. Traces of her where everywhere. So I stooped even looking around my room. I closed my eyes, stilled by breathing, and just lay. I was dead. Ninety years too late, I was finally acting like a corpse.

I wasn't able to suffer through the funeral, but every night I did go to visit her grave. I was so used to sneaking though her window every evening, it had been the highlight of my days. It was It felt so… odd to be in her presence, and unable to smell her blood. It was still in her body, but the cells were dying. As the days went on, the smell got fainter and fainter, until all I had left was the ghost of her. The memories of her. They were fleeting, like human memories. I thought I could remember her face, her voice, her laugh, her smile… but then it just barely escaped me. It hurt too much to remember fully. I'd catch a glimpse of her face… and then nothing. Like my mind was protecting me from the perfect recollections it held, because to think about them too much would kill me.

It was around three in the morning when I got out of bed and ran downstairs. I fleetingly enjoyed the chance to stretch my legs as I sprinted though the front door and through the trees to the small Forks cemetery a mile up the road from town.

That night, the ran soaked me as I sat on the ground, facing her tombstone. My fingers traced the indents of the letters etched in the marble. The stone was white marble—I tried not to think of the irony of that. Renee picked it out because it was simple and pure, traits most people assigned to Bella. I guess I was the only one who knew exactly how not simple she was. It was hard, white, and always cold. Just as I was. And as she would never be.

The ground was damp, but it was just misting right now, not full out rain. So I lay back, next to where her body lay deep underground, and let the rain and mud soak my clothes. Lying there, it was easy to pretend that I was dead too. It was quiet and dark. I could stay here, by her side, forever.

I hated who—and what—I was. I wished to be dead, because then Bella might still be alive. I wished I didn't have to hunt, because then I could have been there for her. I wished I was human, because then even if I couldn't have saved her, I might have been able to die by her side.

I hated myself for being such an idiot this past year. For leaving her, for refusing to change her… I would never be able to forgive myself. I owed her my… existence… after she came to Italy to save me. I would never be able to repay her. The fact that I might have been able to prevent this, to even my debt to her… well that was too excruciating to deal with right now.

I just didn't know where to go from here. I couldn't even remember what used to fill my days before I knew her. All I thought was that there was no point to this anymore. Who knew how many more empty days I would have to float through before the end came for me? The idea of ending the painful emptiness early was the only warm thought I could muster.

I had made up my mind a long time ago regarding what would happen after Bella died. Of course, I never imagined it would be so soon. I didn't know what I could do—I was in the house and everyone was watching me out of the corner of their eyes, for any sign I was planning something "rash," as they put it. It shouldn't be so hard to understand that there was nothing in my life anymore once Bella was gone. My life was, once again, a moonless night. But now, there were no stars—no points of light or reason. There was no reason for this tragedy. There was no reason for anything, and there certainly was no reason for living any more.

Author's Note: Please review! I work really hard on these and it's nice to know _someone_ is reading it... if you like or dislike it... or think I should do something differently, please let me know! :)


	5. Acceptance

Summary: On her way back from Jacob's in chapter 8 of Eclipse, Bella's motorcycle is hit by a truck

Summary: On her way back from Jacob's in chapter 8 of Eclipse, Bella's motorcycle is hit by a truck. She never makes it back to the Cullen's house. The following one shots highlight the reactions of Bella's closest friends and family.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, they are all property of the amazing Stephenie Meyer. I just move them around. No copyright infringement intended.

Acceptance- Carlisle Cullen

This was, unquestioningly, the very worst possible outcome of the unique situation Edward had gotten himself into. I feared that one day, she would die. But not one of us, even Alice with her exceptional foresight, thought it would be this soon. It was, and continues to be, devastating for all involved. Bella, such small and sweet girl, could never have anticipated the magnitude of consequences her death caused. There was no one in Forks who did not mourn the loss of her.

There was not one of my family—a family who made a point of avoiding ties with mortals—who was not shaken by this loss, including myself.

And yet, I knew it would happen one day. Perhaps it was because I surround myself with death on a daily basis, that I more fully understood the reality of this possibility. I knew that if Edward continued to drag his feet about changing her, this would happen someday. Especially given Bella's aptitude for getting herself into precarious situations.

But this had come on so fast. Blinded as he was by his own immortality and his feelings for her, he didn't prepare for this. He wasn't prepared for this. I realized too late that none of them were. If death is an inevitability, why not just accept it's certainty?

Or else ward against it. We had the tools to take the option of dying from her. There was no doubt in my mind that it's what she wanted. I often wonder if, in her last moments, she was hoping she had been changed. Or that she would be changed. If she hadn't been with Jacob just moments before, Alice could have saved her… from the truck, or from death itself. As it stands, she was just on the wrong side of the treaty line at the wrong time. Alice was blinded.

I'm sure she feels guilty. Incredibly so. And Jacob must be distraught.

And Edward… he felt so personally responsible for her death. It was always his nature to take tragedy in this way.

We decided to leave Forks, as part of the healing process. I thought it would help everyone if we weren't constantly reminded of her in time and place. No one came to say goodbye, not even Charlie, though I don't blame him. It was a further reminder that there was nothing left for us in Washington anymore. It was time to go.

We bought a house in Cold Bay, Alaska. There are less that 80 people in the town. Just outside is a huge wildlife refuge, a draw for those that enjoy the taste of large predators. It's biggest claim to fame is an airport that boasts the fifth largest runway in Alaska. It's not a permanent place—most people leave the little town in a year. They come to work, then go home. Or they get sick of the cold and the clouds and the wet, and head for the hills.

But a year was starting to seem like a long time to me. I, who had lived over six hundred of them. I came on as the town's only doctor after their last resident physician passed away. Esme worked at the Izembek National Wildlife Refuge as a wildlife biologist. The story with Jasper, Alice, Rosalie, Emmett and Edward was that they were completing correspondence school while we were here. In their spare time, they tutored the school aged kids.

We lived in a cabin, because that was the only structure available in the town of Cold Bay. It was not as open and airy as the beautiful house that now stood empty in Forks. It was… rustic. Of course, Esme had decorated it impeccably, but it was different. Like a classic log cabin, decorated in rich, warm reads and browns, yellows and oranges, with comfortable couches and thick woven blankets.

Everything got back to normal. Or it seemed back to normal.

It was a Saturday in September when Esme, Rosalie, Emmett, Jasper and I got back from a hunting trip. Esme was cataloging the wildlife, and reported that there were too many brown bears, and they were disrupting the salmon populations. We returned to find Alice lying still as a stone on the couch.

"Alice?" Jasper questioned, taking her hand. She could be having a vision, but she was almost too still for that.

She blinked, and whispered almost hoarsely, "sorry," she closed her nearly black eyes. "So sorry,"

"What?" Rosalie asked, impatient.

"Where's Edward?" Esme asked.

"Gone," Alice replied. Her tone sounded ashamed. Her eyes dropped.

"Where, Alice?" I asked her calmly.

"I don't know!" She said, raising her voice. She pinched the bridge of her ashen nose between her thumb and forefinger. "He left! I was in my room, shopping online, and the next thing I know he's out the door. I couldn't trace the sent farther than the airport."

He'd made a split second decision, that much was clear. And obviously, he didn't know where he was headed yet, because neither did Alice.

It was a tense week at the Cullen camp in Cold Bay. Edward changed his mind so fast, Alice couldn't even get fair glimpses at his plans. One moment he was in Antarctica, one moment he was hunting something in Bolivia. The next moment, he was in Russia. I couldn't even think of what he was planning. Alice never saw him in Italy, so we weren't preparing for the call I received the following Friday morning.

It was an impossibly high, shrill sounding voice. The person—or vampire—on the other end of the line sounded haughty.

"Hello, this is Jane," the voice prompted. The line crackled. The cell phone signal we paid far too much for still barely worked in the isolated outpost.

"Yes?" I asked through my teeth.

"I'm calling you about Edward," she said, no hint of remorse in her tone. If my heart had still been beating, it would have stopped cold at that moment. "We were in Seattle, dealing with the little problem with those murders in the city. New born vampires out of control. He was near your former home. In Forks, lying out in the cemetery. In full sunlight."

I was silent.

"There were more than a few humans present. And—" but I knew what would come after. I nearly dropped the phone. I was finding it very hard to keep my marble features composed at the moment.

"It was fast, Carlisle. I'm sure he didn't even know it was coming. And the humans… well, they won't be talking about what they saw."

"Thank you, for the call, Jane," I crushed the phone in my hand. I must have broken it because the line went dead. I had no grounds on which to protest. I was sure he'd broken the law. And regardless, if he was dead there was no reason to get up in arms. There was no way to fix this. I had known it all along.

Alice gasped before I had a chance to say anything. She'd been blinded, once again, by the nature of her gift. The Volturi had been in Washington, but not for Edward. It was, once again, a situation for being in the wrong place in the wrong time. And now, we had another death in the family.

I refused to believe this was happening again.

Author's Note: The end! I really hope you enjoyed this. It took me the longest by far to finish, but it's my favorite one I've written. I went through a lot of different endings before I picked this particular once, but let me know what you think of it. I love reviews! Thanks! -rcullen


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